Читать книгу The Manoeuvring Mother (Vol. 1-3) - Lady Charlotte Campbell Bury - Страница 10

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When the Wetheral party entered the crowded dancing-room at Lady Spottiswoode's, they caused considerable sensation. It was now publicly known that Lord Ennismore was the accepted lover of Miss Julia Wetheral, and the young couple were gazed at with untired wonder. Each countenance was well known to the company: Miss Julia Wetheral and young Lord Ennismore had frequented every fashionable place of rendezvous for the last three months, yet their engagement evidently procured each personage extraordinary power of novelty.

Eyes which had scarcely allowed a glance to the uninviting figure of Lord Ennismore, gazed now earnestly upon his person, because he came as the acknowledged lover of the handsome Julia Wetheral, and every gentleman glanced with heightened interest and admiration at Julia, because she was no longer of their number to win and to receive their homage. Julia Wetheral now belonged to Lord Ennismore, and her brilliant light must soon disappear from their hemisphere: she was going to throw herself away, they affirmed, upon a fellow unworthy of such a prize. Could she really love such a poor, sickly creature? far better have taken Tom Pynsent.

Julia was the star of the evening, from the contending opinions which circulated upon the subject of her engagement. She was, however, innocent of the sensation she occasioned. Leaning on the arm of her affianced, and accompanied by Lady Ennismore, Julia passed through the groupes who watched her progress, and gave no thought to the whispered observations that floated around her. She was truly happy, truly blessed in her own bright mental anticipations, and in the company of those she loved. She heard no sounds but the heavy enunciation of Ennismore, and the sprightly musical tones of her ladyship. She saw no one distinctly, not even Tom Pynsent, who stood bolt upright before her party, with a remarkably red face. He addressed Miss Wetheral.

"I am getting a disagreeable thing over, Miss Wetheral. I heard Miss Julia was engaged to that young sprig after all, and I knew I must meet her some time or other, so I am prepared to do it at once."

Julia at that moment caught his eye, and Tom Pynsent bowed with tolerable command of manner.

"There, that is over. I wish your sister had given herself to a better sort of fellow. That Lord Ennismore, Miss Wetheral, should not carry such a jewel away from us. She did right to refuse me, if I did not please her fancy, but she ought to have chosen a more likely upstanding fellow than the Staffordshire earl."

Anna Maria smiled complacently at the sound of Tom Pynsent's voice, but the subject was distressing. She could not trust herself to continue it. Tom Pynsent nodded and smiled to a group at some distance.

"There's Wycherly and Tyndal wishing me joy. They watched me bow to your sister. I'll just tell them they are d—d rascals for their pains."

Tom Pynsent walked away to put his threat in execution, but the congratulations of the gentlemen overpowered him.

"I say, Pynsent, you bowed like Sir Charles Grandison."

"Pynsent, that was mortal agony, wasn't it?"

"Tom's a cold," cried young Spottiswoode.

"You are all welcome to laugh, gentlemen," said Tom Pynsent, in his invariably good-natured manner. "Some of you are merry because you have not been refused by a woman you like, and half of you rejoice to find the mortification extended to another besides yourselves."

Mr. Wycherly turned towards Mr. Pynsent. "My dear fellow, you cause your own vexation by hunting after a woman who does not care for you. Most men run after shadows, and cast away substance. I married Mrs. Wycherly because she took a fancy to me, and let me see at once what she wished and expected. Faith, it saved me a great deal of trouble!"

"But no girl cares for me, unless she longs for my money," exclaimed Pynsent, feelingly.

"Zounds, man, don't be crestfallen. I know a fine woman at this moment, and in this room, who would take you penniless!"

Tom Pynsent looked aghast.

"Every body but yourself has observed the thing," said young Spottiswoode. "Haven't they, Tyndal?"

"Where are your eyes, Pynsent?" asked Mr. Vyvyan. "I detected the lady the moment you addressed her."

"'Love in her eyes for ever plays,'" sang Mr. Wycherly. "'It makes her rosy lips his care.'"

"'And walks the mazes of her hair,'" added Mr. Vyvyan.

Tom Pynsent gazed on each speaker in silent amazement: no pencil could pourtray the workings of his countenance.

"Who would sorrow for the cold-hearted, when a handsome girl worships the ground one treads upon?" cried Mr. John Tyndal. "Not I for one."

"I wish she would give me one of those dovelike glances she bestows upon the dull-headed Pynsent," sighed Mr. Henry Tyndal.

"By Jove, gentlemen, I don't consider myself dull!" at last Tom Pynsent burst forth. "I know many ladies who would like to live at Hatton, though they care little enough about its master; but I deny your present statement. Who is the lady you allude to?"

"Go and ask Miss Wetheral to dance, Pynsent, and she will assist you in solving our riddle," said Mr. Wycherly, laughing.

"Good heavens! if a woman looked in my eyes, as I saw a lady consulting yours just now, Pynsent, I should feel myself called upon to fall desperately in love," observed his friend Vyvyan.

"God bless my soul! do you mean that Miss Wetheral likes me?"

Tom Pynsent uttered the question with an agitated and hurried tone of voice, which caused a general laugh among his auditors, but Mr. Wycherly spoke seriously and looked in earnest.

"You were in love with her sister, Pynsent, and had no time to observe other women. Every one else could read in the expression of Miss Wetheral's manner and countenance her decided liking for you."

"God bless my soul!" again ejaculated Tom Pynsent, "I never saw her look me in the face in my life!"

"My dear fellow, you are as green as a girl in her sixteenth year. Do you fancy a woman stares at you by way of shewing her true love? Her downcast looks and melancholy appearance betray her. She only brightens up when you address her, and to all other men she is cold as an iceberg. Such are Miss Wetheral's symptoms, and such are all delicate-minded women's manners, when they are not hunting down a fortune. I know the sex, Pynsent."

"Such a woman is worth a thousand scornful dames," remarked old Mr. Tyndal.

"Pynsent looks petrified!" exclaimed young Spottiswoode.

"Pynsent at fault, by the Lord Harry!" laughed his friend Vyvyan.

"Cold scent, Pynsent, after your late run," cried Spottiswoode, entertained beyond measure at poor Tom's égaré looks.

The group of gentlemen rallied unmercifully their bewildered companion upon his dull reception of a piece of intelligence which would have raised any other man from the dead. Tom Pynsent's temper stood all jibes with unwearied patience, and when his mind had somewhat recovered the standard of its usual tone, he rebutted their attacks in his own loud tone of voice.

"I don't mind any of your jokes; if a woman likes me seriously, I shall be sure to return it, and be very much obliged to her. I like Miss Wetheral very much, but I did not suppose she cared for me; how could I?"

"Why, you flirted with her abominably, once," remarked young Spottiswoode.

"Yes, perhaps I did so, but I had no idea she minded my nonsense."

"Young girls are easily caught, Pynsent, at first coming out. You certainly trifled with poor Miss Wetheral," said Mr. Tyndal.

"Did I? then I'll be hanged if I don't marry her!"

A roar of laughter followed this announcement, but Tom Pynsent was nothing daunted; he coolly withdrew from his companions, and sought Anna Maria, who received him with placid manners, and suppressed pleasure.

Tom Pynsent was now enlightened on one material point; and his vanity was touched, by the knowledge that the beautiful Miss Wetheral, so remarkable for her loveliness and extraordinary coldness of manner, did indeed love him in silence, above all his companions, and independently of Hatton! She had loved him in spite of his proposal to her sister! She had borne the knowledge of her sister's rivalship in patient gentleness! She was at that moment receiving him with kind and conciliating manners, though she knew he had asked another to be his wife! Tom Pynsent's heart did justice to her suffering and affection; and he mentally vowed he would secure a prize so long unvalued, because so totally misunderstood. From that moment he attached himself exclusively to Miss Wetheral.

How did the hours glide by that eventful evening, in the imagination of the two happy sisters! How triumphant did Lady Wetheral appear as she glanced at both daughters!

There was Lord Ennismore publicly displaying his engagement with Julia, and Tom Pynsent was stationed at the side of Anna Maria, in deep, and, apparently, agreeable discourse. Her triumph was commented upon, by the Mesdames Tyndal and Pynsent.

"Oh, be hanged to her!" cried the latter lady, "she has got one daughter hooked on Ennismore, and now she's driving at Tom: only watch her manœuvres. I knew what she was at, Mrs. Tyndal, when she made her visit to Court Herbert some years ago. Miss Wetheral was a child, but I smoked the meaning of it. She was vapouring then, after Tom."

"Lady Wetheral has been very fortunate with her daughters," replied Mrs. Tyndal. "Mr. Boscawen was an eligible match, and Lord Ennismore of course, in the eye of the world, is of still higher consideration."

"I think, if I had ten portionless daughters, I would not give one of them to that poor decayed fellow, and as I always told my son, Tom; 'If you bring me home a Wetheral, I'll be hanged if I receive her, and my word is as good as your own.'"

Mrs. Tyndal was accustomed to her companion's manly style of expression; so indeed was every family in the county. Mrs. Pynsent was tolerated in her youth on account of her large fortune; she was tolerated in middle-life as the mistress of Hatton; she was sought in her old age, as the mother of her son Tom. Thus Mrs. Pynsent passed through society without a single accomplishment, or even the attributes of a female, supported by the powerful shield of wealth, and feared for the determination of her sentiments and the coarseness of her remarks, by all her acquaintance.

Separated from her masculine propensities, Mrs. Pynsent was a warm-hearted, well-meaning person, and many young people could bear witness, that if Mrs. Pynsent often offended their ears, or dealt a merciless blow at their vanity, she had also befriended them in their need, and in sorrow or sickness, there was none kinder, or more patient. Why Mrs. Pynsent spoke so bitterly against a "Wetheral" never could be divined; probably some early prejudice influenced her in deprecating the name.

Mrs. Tyndal expressed surprise at Mrs. Pynsent's observation to her son.

"Really, Mrs. Pynsent, I cannot agree with you in such very determined dislike to the Miss Wetherals. I think my sons might make a far worse choice than either lady present."

"By Jove!" replied Mrs. Pynsent, shrugging her shoulders, "I hope Tom will never choose an empty doll from Wetheral: my brother Wycherly hinted to me the other day Tom had been disappointed of one of them, but I gave him my thoughts upon the matter: 'Bill,' I said, 'if any man could prove to me my son Tom had made an offer to a Wetheral, I'd kick him down stairs for his pains, and out of the Hatton grounds.' My brother Bill never renewed that subject!"

Mrs. Tyndal glanced towards Anna Maria, who was still engaged in conversation with Tom Pynsent, and a smile passed over her face. Mrs. Pynsent caught the smile and look.

"Oh, you need not think about Tom in that quarter!" she observed. "Tom knows I hate the name."

At that moment Miss Wetheral and her companion joined the dancers.

"Your son distinguishes Miss Wetheral to-night," said her friend, with rather more espièglerie than their friendship warranted.

"Not a bit of it; I don't believe a word of it." At that instant her eye caught Tom dancing with all his might, and she beheld his vis-à-vis exchanging smiles with him: her colour rose.

"By Jove! he's dancing with her a second time, and there's that superannuated father of his, looking on! Wouldn't any one think Mr. Pynsent was staring at a puppet-show? I'll take the old gentleman home."

Mrs. Pynsent rose for the purpose of joining her husband, who was enjoying the apparent gaiety of his son. Lady Wetheral joined her at that most inopportune moment, and began a subject most offensive to her feelings.

"I am delighted to see your son in such excellent spirits to-night, my dear Mrs. Pynsent: it is an infectious disorder which I already feel stealing upon me. Such joyous spirits generally take effect upon those around."

"What ails Tom that he should not be gay?" growled Mrs. Pynsent. "Mothers court him and daughters flirt with him; what else can he require in a ball-room?"

Lady Wetheral felt piqued.

"The last time I had the pleasure of seeing your son, he was not so gaily inclined. I am glad his dejection has passed away."

"When did you see Tom out of spirits?" abruptly inquired Mrs. Pynsent.

"At Wetheral," replied her ladyship, in a gentle tone, while her heart longed for farther questioning.

"Umph! Men require spirits sometimes, when they are running the gauntlet."

"Mr. Pynsent won my admiration and regard by his honourable manner of acting," continued Lady Wetheral, who had now got into deep water; "he was always a particular favourite of mine, and I deeply regretted my daughter did not accept a man so much. … "

"Your daughter! who are you talking about?—what has my son to do with any of your daughters?" Mrs. Pynsent was evidently beginning to chafe, but she had offended by her allusions to mothers and daughters, and she was destined to receive punishment from Lady Wetheral's hands.

"I am afraid I have alluded to circumstances which have not been made known to you, my dear Mrs. Pynsent, and I beseech you not to remember what has passed my lips: I was of course perfectly certain you were no stranger to certain events at Wetheral, or I would have withheld this unfortunate communication; I thought you knew. … "

"I know nothing, Lady Wetheral; and what is more, I have no desire to know any thing: have the kindness to let me pass."

Mrs. Pynsent passed on, as her ladyship fell back with polite ease of manner at her wish; but the iron had entered into her soul. The diamond aigrette upon her green satin turban paled under the flashing of her eyes as she proceeded up the room towards Lady Spottiswoode. Lady Wetheral confessed afterwards, her triumph at that moment repaid her for many bitter taunts on the part of her victim.

Whatever might be the opinion of Mrs. Pynsent respecting an alliance with "a Wetheral," her son was plunging into the scrape with formidable determination. He had truly admired Julia; he had been severely disappointed by her refusal; but then she never cared for him, and he had applied to her father in doubt and fearful suspicion that she preferred Ennismore. There was a lovely and admired creature positively in love with him—a girl, too, considered by the men inaccessible to all approach—even Vyvyan detected her attachment, and the Tyndals envied him; this was irresistible; and Tom Pynsent forgot every thing, in the flattering, rapturous idea that he was loved by such a woman. His attention that night was extremely marked, and Miss Wetheral, glowing with happy elation of spirits, listened with deep interest to the half-sentimental, half-awkward conversation of her partner. At the conclusion of the dance, which attracted the attention of Mrs. Tyndal, Tom Pynsent became more seriously sentimental and red-faced.

"Miss Wetheral, I think a man may love twice, mayn't he?"

"He may so," replied Anna Maria, "but no one ever loves with depth of affection a second time; how can they?"

Tom Pynsent looked at his gloves, and then upon the ground. "Indeed I don't know."

"The first affection," she continued, with feeling, "unites all the best feelings in their intensity; but when they are crushed, those feelings bloom no more, though they may not be extinguished."

"Sometimes one's first love is a silly affair," remarked Tom, looking inquisitively, yet alarmed, at his companion.

"They may be silly, and they may be objectionable, Mr. Pynsent; but they destroy happiness at the time, and a first sorrow is the bitterest."

"I think I could love a second time just as well as I did at first, if I knew a nice girl liked me, and believed what I told her—" Tom Pynsent stopped. A deep sigh from Anna Maria disordered him, but it animated his courage at the same time.

"I know many people very happy with their second loves," said Tom Pynsent, looking shy.

"Men may love twice, but women never, if they really feel an attachment for an object," answered Miss Wetheral.

"I liked your sister Julia extremely, Miss Wetheral; but she did not care about me, and a man cannot always be miserable about a woman who runs out of his way. I would rather love a woman who liked me in return, and would not check me with stern looks. I am sure I should love my wife very much; and if she objected to hunting, I would never go out more than four days in the week, and I am sure she might have her own way in every thing."

Anna Maria coloured with emotion, and turned from the eager gaze of her companion; her timidity gave increased animation to the speaker, and he proceeded boldly.

"I'm sure any woman need not mind me: I am rough, but then a wife mustn't mind those little things, and if I swear, it won't be at her. A man swears to make himself understood, and sometimes one swears a little for something to do; but my wife need not mind those trifles, need she, Miss Wetheral?"

"That would depend upon circumstances."

"But should you?" asked Tom.

"I never heard you swear, Mr. Pynsent—much—"

Tom Pynsent drew himself up with strong approbation and pleased vanity. "Shall we dance again, Miss Wetheral?"

"We have danced together twice this evening, Mr. Pynsent."

"Well, and what then?"

"People will remark," hesitated Anna Maria; "no gentleman dances three times with—that is—I really can't tell."

"But if we like to dance together, what is that to any one?" Tom rose and took her hand. "If you will not dance with me, I shall be sure you don't wish it."

Anna Maria rose, though reluctantly.

"It is not my wish to decline dancing, Mr. Pynsent: I only dislike making myself publicly remarked for breaking established rules."

"Never mind rules, Miss Wetheral; we will dance together, in spite of every thing. Who minds what people say, if we like to dance together!"

Julia and Lord Ennismore passed at the moment Anna Maria was debating with her partner: Julia smiled. "My dear Anna Maria, the young ladies are complaining of you as a monopoliser; they say you have been keeping Mr. Pynsent from his usual half dozen partners, and there is a combination to vote you out of all ball invitations."

"I cannot allow Miss Wetheral to listen to such abominable nonsense," said Tom Pynsent, privately delighted at the idea of being observed; "she has promised to be guided by me this evening, so we are going to dance together for the third time."

"Come and stand by us then in the country dance." Julia pressed the hand of her sister with affectionate meaning, which Anna Maria returned, as they proceeded together to the set which was then forming. For an instant they were able to exchange whispers.

"Oh, Julia, my heart is tranquil, I am again happy!"

"Glad of it, go on, and mind nobody's looks or remarks." In another instant their partners claimed them.

"I say, father, just observe cousin Tom," said Miss Wycherly, touching her father's arm; "do look at Tom smiling upon Miss Wetheral, and looking so red-faced and happy. That will be a match, after all; I shall congratulate him."

"Let him alone, Pen, let him alone, and congratulate him when he asks for it. Girls will always be poking their noses into matches, and making mischief. Say nothing to Tom, and say nothing to your aunt."

"But my aunt will be distracted, father, at the match."

"Pooh, pooh, let your aunt and Tom manage their own affairs; they can both take their own parts."

"Gads!" cried Miss Wycherly; "Tom is just going to dance with Miss Wetheral the third time, father; the third time, as I am alive, father! Well, that will do for my aunt if she sees it."

Mr. Vyvyan came up at that moment to request the pleasure of dancing with Miss Wycherly. Miss Wycherly kept her glass to her eye, and continued observing the party as she replied, "No, I can't dance with any body now, I'm looking at Tom." Mr. Vyvyan bowed with an offended air and withdrew.

"Pen, you were very rude," observed Mr. Wycherly.

"Was I?"

"Yes, you were; devilish rude."

"What did he come worrying me for, when I was watching Tom. Gads! father, Tom is saying something to the purpose now. Miss Wetheral has given him such a look: poor Tom, it's all over with him! Where in the world is aunty Pynsent?—somebody find me aunty—I want of all things to see her fire up!"

Sir Charles Spottiswoode begged the honour of Miss Wycherly's hand for the following country dance.

"I can't dance with any of you; I am busy looking for my aunt," replied the lady, seating herself.

"Let me assist you in your search, Miss Wycherly;" and Mr. Spottiswoode seated himself quietly beside her. Miss Wycherly was amused by the action.

"Charles Spottiswoode, you may call this constancy, but I can only consider it tiresome: do go and dance with some lady who has not the objection I have, to being worried. I hate tiresome men!"

"I shall not desire to dance with you, but I will not quit this place while you remain here," was the reply.

"Men always fancy perseverance will balance their demerits," said Miss Wycherly.

"Perseverance will do much," replied Mr. Spottiswoode, "if a lady values attention. Love is only proved by persevering constancy and untired assiduity."

"A very fine sentiment, Mr. Spottiswoode; but I can meet you in the field of disputation: I have always heard that 'love' was fearful, patient, and easily discouraged."

"That love must emanate from the heart of a poor devil, Miss Wycherly; not such a heart as you would prize."

"What do you presume to know of my taste, Mr. Spottiswoode?"

"I know that you would despise a creeping, frightened lover, as you dislike your horse for starting upon every application of the whip. You would prefer a decided admirer who bore with your flippancy, and feared not your power. You have such a lover in me, fair Penelope!"

"You are very tiresome and disagreeable, Mr. Spottiswoode."

"You like me better than you will acknowledge, Miss Wycherly."

"If that is all you can amuse me with, we might as well join the dancing," said Miss Wycherly. "But stay, I cannot; I have just declined Mr. Vyvyan."

"What is Mr. Vyvyan to you or me? the set is nearly completed, and we shall be too late." Mr. Spottiswoode offered his arm to his fair companion.

"No, I shall not dance to-night," said the capricious lady, rising and reseating herself. "My mind is changed."

"So is mine; I am going to flirt a little with Lady Anna Herbert. Chatting is far more agreeable than dancing, in a heated room. Lady Anna has smiled good-naturedly twice. I am glad you had the good taste to decline."

"I said I should not dance, but I did not say I would not talk, Mr. Spottiswoode; how very anxious you are to take up one's meaning." Mr. Spottiswoode only bowed to retire. Miss Wycherly softened the pettishness of her accent.

"Do stay, Mr. Spottiswoode, I have something particular to ask you; you flurry one with your rapidity."

Mr. Spottiswoode sat down. "I am all attention, Miss Wycherly."

"How can you look so cross at me, and speak in such dry tones, Charles Spottiswoode! I hate cross people."

"Then answer me one simple question in truth and sincerity, or I am gone for ever, Penelope Wycherly."

"Gads! how you plague one! Well, what is it?"

"I will know whether you mean to accept me after all this flippancy. If you do not intend it, say so; but I demand a reply."

"Then you wish to flirt with Lady Anna, Mr. Charles, and you think

"'It is good to be off with the old love,

Before you be on with the new.'"

"You have not answered me," returned Mr. Spottiswoode, seriously; "answer me, as you hope yourself to be fairly treated."

"I vow I don't know what I mean; it is very difficult to make one's choice among such a variety of Lords of the creation. I have not been introduced to Mr. Jones yet. I can't say I admire Tom's friend."

"I am answered, Miss Wycherly; I wish you good night." Mr. Spottiswoode turned from the coquette, and walked up the dancing-room, without attending to Miss Wycherly's recall. The lady became alarmed. Was Mr. Spottiswoode's movement really intentional, or was he showing her how indifferently he could take leave, to compel her into acceptance? There he was positively talking to Lady Anna Herbert, and looking perfectly composed. Lady Anna was a notorious flirt, but she should not entrap Charles Spottiswoode! Miss Wycherly was not accustomed to be treated with nonchalance; and that Mr. Spottiswoode, her lover of long standing, should summon courage enough to stand upon the defensive against her coquetry, piqued her to the soul. She sought Julia, who was dancing with Lord Ennismore.

"Miss Wycherly unattended!" cried Mr. Henry Tyndal, as he met her on her way to the dancers, "take my arm."

"Be quiet," said the lady, passing on with her glass raised to her eye, "do be quiet."

"Miss Wycherly, you are after mischief; you are darting arrows at some poor wretch through that missile," continued young Tyndal, following her.

"I am darting nothing, unless you are my arrow, in which case I should delight to throw you to an incredible distance."

"You are witty, Miss Wycherly," returned young Tyndal, "and whenever you are witty, you are angry."

Miss Wycherly made no reply; she saw and approached Julia.

"Julia Wetheral, I beseech you to do me a service."

"I will gladly assist you, if it is in my power," replied Julia; "what is required of me?"

"Oh, leave the dance, and listen to me. Lord Ennismore will follow us, when he perceives you have quitted the set; here let us be seated, and I will tell you my anxiety."

Julia smilingly listened to Miss Wycherly's statement of her little coquetry, and the offended departure of Mr. Spottiswoode.

"And now," she said, "I know you will help me, and just make my peace with Charles. I won't give him the triumph of knowing he has frightened me, but in your playful way you can discover what Spottiswoode means. He has positively threatened to flirt with Lady Anna; and, whether I like him or not, he must not appear unconcerned with another woman. My dear, that would kill me. I can't part with Charles Spottiswoode in that way, you know, and I just want you to sound him. Now go, there's a dear creature; leave Lord Ennismore with me."

Julia undertook the mission, and Lord Ennismore consigned himself, not to the care of Miss Wycherly, but to the side of his lady mother.

"My dear son, I have witnessed Julia's flight, and your consternation," said her ladyship; "you are fortunate in possessing a foolishly-fond mother to retire to in these emergencies."

"I am always very glad to come to you, mother," replied the poor effeminate young man, seating himself between her ladyship and Lady Wetheral.

Julia was some minutes in playful conversation with Mr. Spottiswoode, and Miss Wycherly watched her movements with eager attention; at last Julia approached.

"Well, my dear, what does he say? Tell me at once, is he going to dance with Lady Anna?"

"Mr. Spottiswoode is very much hurt, Penelope, and, if you are not cautious, you will lose him."

"Oh, my dear girl, don't say so. Lose him? No, I'll be hanged, as my aunt says, if he gets away from me, to be one of Lady Anna's swains! I must come down, I see, though it grates me dreadfully."

"Make haste, as you value Mr. Spottiswoode," replied Julia, "or he will be dancing with Lady Anna. He is looking at us at this moment; now, Penelope, smile, smile, and beckon him to you for ever—don't trifle—now, now, Penelope!"

"My dear, the smile would kill me. I can't smile at Spottiswoode, to show him his power, and make him impudent. No, I cannot smile yet, Julia."

"There, Penelope, he has asked Lady Anna to dance, and they are standing up! You have lost him by your foolish coquetting, upon my honour!"

Miss Wycherly turned pale, but her feelings struggled with pride. "Oh, well then, let him dance away, I care not. It is of little consequence whether Mr. Spottiswoode prefers Lady Anna or myself. I shall not condescend to beg pardon for any thing I chose to say to a silly creature, who cannot command his temper."

"For shame, Penelope! you do care, and you do mind Mr. Spottiswoode dancing with Lady Anna; when the dance is ended, tell him you have done wrong."

"He might have seen by my looks, Julia, I was not in earnest, or, at least, that I did not mean him to think so."

"Then tell him so, Penelope."

"Not I, indeed. I never will submit to own myself wrong to a man before marriage, or after either, if I can help it. Spottiswoode may rue the hour he offended me, for never will I condescend to ask him to return to a woman whom he chooses to leave for such a person as Lady Anna. Any other girl I could have borne patiently. This I will not forgive, for he knew it would vex me! hang me, à la Pynsent, if I do not repay him in kind."

"I can be of no further use, Penelope?"

"None, Julia, but I thank you for what you have done, though it has proved ineffectual. Do not let me detain you from your party."

Julia endeavoured to appease her companion, but her lover's careless indifference gave deep offence to Miss Wycherly, and she persisted in maintaining an equal appearance of light-hearted manner, to deceive and distress Mr. Spottiswoode. She was not long without materials to assist her design; Mr. Henry Tyndal again applying to her, Miss Wycherly accepted him as a partner, and she passed her lover in the country dance with inimitably affected composure and gaiety. How did that really attached couple endeavour to vie with each other in assuming a coldness foreign to their hearts; and how wretchedly did they pass the remainder of the evening in a state of miserable watching and suffering! Miss Wycherly, in her most laughing dialogue with Henry Tyndal, cast perturbed and anxious looks towards Lady Anna Herbert, who was listening with smiling and marked attention to Mr. Spottiswoode's compliments. Her heart felt withered, yet she redoubled her gaiety; Miss Wycherly was almost noisy in her mirth, and the sound of her voice disturbed the serenity of Mr. Spottiswoode, and made him falter in his own sallies. Lady Anna rebuked him.

"How now, Mr. Spottiswoode! you have said the same thing three times consecutively. What am I to understand by this absence of ideas?"

"You have confounded them, Lady Anna."

"I did not flatter myself I had power to confound your learned mind, Mr. Spottiswoode," returned the lady.

"I shall not be the first, nor the last, whom your ladyship has confounded; all our heads become turned in your society."

"Very well; I declare I shall tell Miss Wycherly how you flirt."

"Pray do, Lady Anna; Miss Wycherly is coming down with Mr. Tyndal."

"Very well; Miss Wycherly, what do you think Mr. Spottiswoode says?"

"Cross hands and back again, and never mind what Mr. Spottiswoode says," said Miss Wycherly. "I am flying down the middle." Away she went.

"I saw Miss Wycherly did not touch you in cross hands, Mr. Spottiswoode, but here she comes again."

The party made their poussette in high glee, Miss Wycherly appearing wholly engaged in some joke with Henry Tyndal, and Mr. Spottiswoode showering compliments upon Lady Anna. Tom Pynsent and Anna Maria, who stood near the set, and heard the dialogue, were much amused.

"Cousin Pen has quarrelled with Spottiswoode," he remarked, "and there will be a pretty battle; hear how he is laying it into Lady Anna Herbert. I should not like quarrelling, should you, Miss Wetheral?"

"Oh, no, surely not."

"Quarrelling is a rum sort of going on, Miss Wetheral. I don't think you ever quarrel."

"Never, when I have my own way," replied Miss Wetheral, smiling.

"I'm sure my wife would have her own way, if that was all she cared about, Miss Wetheral."

Miss Wetheral was silent.

"I wish I was married to a woman who would be good-natured, and not given to be huffed upon all occasions," resumed Tom Pynsent. "I think a bachelor's life very uncomfortable."

Miss Wetheral trembled violently, but she loved Tom Pynsent too fondly to be able to assist his meaning; her heart beat audibly, but she remained silent.

"You ride on horseback, Miss Wetheral, very often, don't you?"

"Yes, frequently."

"I wish you would let me ride with you; I am sure you do not know half the country about Wetheral. I suppose I may escort you, Miss Wetheral?" Tom Pynsent began to feel great stoutness of heart, in proportion as Anna Maria grew timid and embarrassed.

"I shall be happy—we shall feel——." She hesitated.

"To be sure; well, then, I shall be at Wetheral to-morrow, and, if you are not fatigued, I will show you a monstrous fine view."

"But your hunting-day is to-morrow, Mr. Pynsent."

"Never mind hunting for a day or so, Miss Wetheral; I don't mind being laughed at. I want very much to show you that view, so mind we are engaged to-morrow."

How lightly did Miss Wetheral's heart beat at that moment! how was she repaid for months of miserable feeling!

It was during the bustle of breaking up, that Miss Wycherly glided towards Julia, and unbosomed her feelings.

"My dear soul, I am the most wretched woman existing; that creature has vexed me to the soul with his flirtation, and my only hope is that I have given him a tweak in return."

"Take care, Penelope!"

"Oh, I shall care about nothing but repiquing. As long as Spottiswoode flirts with Lady Anna, so long I shall flirt with that half spoony Tyndal junior, if my heart breaks under it. How happy you are, Julia, and how miserable am I! You have chained your lover, whereas, mine bounds away at a touch. Now, there, look at him, cloaking Lady Anna, as if she was made of spun glass, and bringing her just under my very eyes. I will bear that man's insult with perfect gaiety—watch me now—good night!"

Miss Wycherly passed on with apparent light-heartedness, and addressed Lady Anna Herbert.

"How you have footed it this night, Lady Anna! Mr. Henry Tyndal declares you are the pride of Shropshire in a ball-room. I was quite jealous. Lord Farnborough is waiting for you, with Lady Jessy, but I shall tell them you are too agreeably occupied to move away yet."

"Oh, no, really I am quite ready," replied her ladyship: "but Mr. Spottiswoode's compliments are so lengthy, they will never arrive at a conclusion; what do you think he has been saying?"

"Oh, I guess, Lady Anna.

"'Will ye gang to the bourne, Marion,

Will ye gang to the bourne with me?'

"I can't continue the song, for my father beckons, but fare you well." Miss Wycherly kissed her hand playfully, and walked gaily up the room, which was thinning very fast.

"That was excellently done," observed Lady Ennismore to Julia, as they proceeded to the carriage, "but it will cost your friend her night's rest, and her lover into the bargain. That fragment of song, and the careless manner which accompanied its delivery, will throw the gentleman into Lady Anna's power."

Anna Maria was escorted to the carriage by Tom Pynsent, and Lady Wetheral triumphantly and delightedly invited him to Wetheral, whenever he felt inclined to do them honour by his presence.

"Certainly, Mr. Pynsent, Lady Spottiswoode's parties bear away the bell amongst us; every thing is so agreeably arranged, so many extremely pleasant people gathered together! Wetheral will prove fast-days after such an evening as this, but fasts are enjoined, you know. Mortifications are proper to subdue the spirit."

"I am engaged to ride with Miss Wetheral to-morrow," replied Tom Pynsent, with a slight hesitation of speech, and a remarkably silly look. "I am to show her a monstrous fine view."

"How very kind! my daughter is not acquainted with our distant views, Mr. Pynsent, and your polite attention will be the means of increasing her pleasures. Miss Wetheral delights in fine scenery. You must dine with us, my dear sir; we shall not allow you to run away after, perhaps, a long and fatiguing ride. My dear Lord Ennismore, thank you for bringing me Julia, but where is her ladyship?"

"Lord Farnborough is escorting my mother; our carriage has just drawn up, and she begs you will drive on without waiting for her. She is talking to the Farnboroughs, and I am going to join her. We shall be at Wetheral before you."

"Oh yes, your horses are much too speedy for my fears. Well, then, my dear Julia, we will proceed at once into the carriage."

Lord Ennismore handed Julia to the carriage, and returned to join his mother.

"Excellent young man," exclaimed Lady Wetheral, "I always admired Ennismore, but his filial attentions are beautiful."

Tom Pynsent could not forbear a smile at her ladyship's enthusiastic admiration; he wished the party good night.

"Good night, good night," said Lady Wetheral and Julia, kissing their hands to the receding figure of Mr. Pynsent. Anna Maria did not speak her adieus, neither did she wave her hand, but she bent forward to watch the last glimpse of his athletic form, as it disappeared among the groups, who were waiting for their carriages.